


The many uses of a shield

by Shaish



Series: Ghosts [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adorable, Cute, Humor, I Love You, M/M, Sex, You little shits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 23:43:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2289005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaish/pseuds/Shaish





	The many uses of a shield

Bucky holds still as he wakes, keeps his breathing deep and his pulse down as he listens. There’s the sound of two familiar heartbeats, one up above behind him and the other down below in front of him, and a light breeze blowing some old blinds from somewhere a few feet down the room.

He lets his breathing shift and his body stretch with a quiet yawn that ends in a squeak, rolling over onto his other side to bury his face into Steve’s hip when Bucky hears him huff a quiet laugh, where Steve seems to be sitting with his back to the wall and his legs out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. Bucky burrows into the length of Steve’s side just to make him laugh again, sliding his left foot between Steve’s calves and wedging his leg into the resulting gap.

He feels fingers in his hair after a moment, lips quirking up as Steve gently works through any tangles they run into, pausing every now and then before Bucky hears a page turn. The light breeze blows a little at the ends of his hair, strands tickling his bare lower back and he squirms a little against it, reaching his left arm up to wrap it around Steve’s waist and pull him in a little closer by his hip. Steve huffs another laugh, fingers still working down the length of Bucky’s hair. “I’m trying to read, Buck,” he says softly.

Bucky grunts, nosing the edge of Steve’s shirt up so he can brush the tip of his nose slowly back and forth over Steve’s warm skin. “What could you _possibly_ be reading that’s more important than me?” he asks, voice low and rough from sleep.

Steve replies, a smile in his voice, “ _The Hunger Games_. In French.”

Bucky groans, tilting his face up to nibble at the skin at the top of Steve’s hip. Steve yelps at the sudden teeth on his skin and squirms a little, but settles soon enough, laughing quietly. “I didn’t think Dernier’s sporadic, late night French lessons would be put to use reading about a female _Hawkeye_ ,” Bucky grumbles.

Steve laughs under his breath, but his fingers twitch faintly in Bucky’s hair and his body tenses a little. Bucky blinks his eyes open, turning his head a little against Steve’s skin to look up at his face.

The corners of his mouth are pinched a little and he doesn’t look at Bucky, so Bucky closes his eyes again and presses his face back into Steve’s skin, nuzzling it with his nose.

Their old friends are still a little bit of a sore subject, but it’s...not necessarily gotten better, but more bearable.

Steve relaxes again and Bucky rubs his foot against the inside of Steve’s calf when Steve goes back to working the knots out of his hair, the sound of another page turning. “It’s not a bad book,” Steve says after a quiet short while. Bucky grunts, then melts into Steve’s side and the mattress when Steve brings his fingers up and rubs Bucky’s scalp.

Bucky drags himself out of bed after a while to take a shower, water dripping on the floor as his steps slow to a stop once he enters back into the main room, eyes locking on Steve’s shield laying next to the bed on its deflective side. Shadow’s laying in the center of it between the straps, curled in on itself.

Steve lifts his eyes from his book to raise an eyebrow at him where he’s stopped naked on almost the other side of the room, leaning over slowly to look over the far side of the bed before looking back up at Bucky, sending him a warning look with a slight shake of his head.

Bucky smirks, sharp and feral, and ignores it, keeping his steps slow and silent as he walks over to the shield. Shadow dozes while he nears, finally getting close enough to dart down and spin the shield with a hand, fast and sudden like a top.

Shadow rears up with a loud cat-screech and darts off of the shield. Bucky laughs, wet hair sliding against his back as he doubles over. He gets his eyes open quick enough to dodge back when the cat swipes up at his face, aiming for his crotch next. Bucky lets out half-shout, covering his junk with his hands while running back for the bathroom. “Steve! Help!” he calls back as the cat darts after him, a black streak across the old, light wood floor.

“It’s your own fault,” Steve says unhelpfully back, leaning back against the wall and turning another page of his book.

“Traitor!” Bucky calls back, running around the room at almost top speed until Shadow slows to a stop and hisses at him before jumping up on the window ledge and jumping outside.

Bucky huffs a breath, watching its tail disappear out the window before walking back over to the shield where it’s spun out near the end of the bed, looking down at it for a long moment before bringing his foot down on the edge of it and flinging it up, catching it with his left hand midair and slipping it on his forearm. He looks up at Steve with a smirk. “What do you think?”

Steve glances up, eyes darting to the shield before slowly trailing down Bucky’s body, then working all the way back up to his face. Bucky shivers slightly.

Steve closes his book and Bucky grins.

\--

Steve thrusts into him but it’s not hitting that spot he wants and the pillows under his hips are too _flat._ He lets out a frustrated groan, gesturing for Steve to stop when he gets an idea and leans over the bed, Steve shifting with him so he doesn’t have to pull out.

Bucky grabs it and leans back up, Steve staring as Bucky holds it up with a smirk.

“Buck...You’ve got to be kidding me,” Steve says incredulously, panting softly.

Bucky shifts his hips up and Steve makes a surprised sound before shifting with him, and Bucky slides the shield under his lower back, soaking in the gently cold sensation of the metal and letting out moan when Steve shifts again to get comfortable and his cock hits that spot inside of him. “Yeah, okay, keep going,” Bucky says a little breathlessly.

Steve looks down at the edge of the shield with a thoughtful expression for a moment before looking back up at Bucky.

Bucky smirks smugly back, wiggling his hips a little.

Steve wipes that look off of his face pretty soon after that.

\--

Bucky pauses in the middle of pulling his shirt down over his chest the next day, fingers catching on gaps and he frowns down at it. He stares for a moment, then darts his head up when he hears a snort.

Steve’s stopped in the middle of putting his long coat on, one arm through a sleeve and the other sleeve hanging loose against his back, a hand over his mouth and wide eyes on Bucky’s torn shirt.

There’s four, cat sized claw tears straight through the front of the shirt. Bucky turns around to find the cat and Steve’s laughter bursts past his lips. Bucky spins back around, frowning even though his lips are trying to twitch up because Steve’s _laughing_. The _why_ clicks after a moment and he yanks the shirt up and off, turning it around. “ _That fucker_ ,” Bucky lets out quietly, holding up the shirt to the light to find the tears have gone through both sides. Bucky grumbles, going over to their shared duffel to pull out another shirt, shoving the ruined one in with a grunt.

When he gets the new, _unclawed_  shirt on, he pulls his hair out of the back of it and into a ponytail, narrowing his eyes over at where the cat is sitting on the window ledge, staring right at him. “ _Fine_ ,” he concedes grudgingly, pulling his own coat on as he looks back at the cat, “Fair.” He walks over to the window after closing the duffel and the cat jumps up onto his shoulder, curling its tail around the back of his ponytail.

He looks over and Steve’s got his coat on, smiling softly over at the two of them.

“You ready?” Bucky asks him, smiling back.

Steve nods once, picking up his shield and sliding it into place on his back as they head for the door, closing the window and turning the light off as they go.

\--

“This is a terrible idea,” Steve says from his left. Bucky just grins maniacally at where he’s holding Steve’s shield in his hands.

“It’s a _great_ idea,” Bucky insists, bending down to set the shield on top of the snow covered slope. He can practically feel Steve’s frown on the back of his head.

“You said that about those explosives back in Prague,” Steve counters.

Bucky scoffs, carefully sitting down in the center of the shield and pulling his legs in as tightly as he can, left hand dug deep down in the snow to keep the shield from sliding around too much. “I’ll admit, I didn’t know the third foundation pillar was _that_ loose,” he concedes, “But this, Steve, _this_ is going to be _fun_ ,” Bucky says with a grin up at him.

Steve frowns down at him, eyes glancing around at the surrounding alps. “I don’t know, Buck. I don’t think I can have _fun_ here.”

Bucky’s expression sobers and then softens. “Hey,” he says softly, and Steve looks back down at him, a line between his brows and old pain in his eyes. Bucky’s heart clenches a little at it. “I know. Me too,” he says honestly. Steve’s shoulders loosen slightly. “But I want...I want this to take some of that away. I want to be able to have _fun_ here, because we _can_ , even when they fucked us twelve ways to Sunday. I want this to be our ‘fuck you’ to the war. To Zola. To Hydra.” Steve’s eyes drop to the snow but Bucky keeps going. “Against all the odds, here we are. And cheesey as it sounds, I want the last sounds to echo these mountains be our laughter, and not our screams.”

Steve’s eyes dart up to his briefly at that, dropping to the ground again before looking around at the mountains again, mouth pulled down a little for a long moment. He finally lets out a long breath, rolling the tension out of his shoulders while moving over to sit on the back edge of the shield, curling himself around Bucky as best he can and wedging his hard, right leg as securely as possible between Bucky’s, using his hands briefly to keep the shield from sliding around too much as he shifts around. Steve wraps his arms tight around Bucky’s middle after, curving himself forward so they both hunch and bend, become more balanced in the center.

“This is still a _terrible_ idea,” Steve grumbles next to his left ear, chin almost resting on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky grins, turning his head to press a quick kiss to the side of Steve’s nose before pushing the shield forward with his left hand, wrapping his leather glove covered fingers around the edge as they shift towards the tilting point of the long, achingly tall hill.

“ _You’re probably right!_ ” Bucky half shouts over his shoulder as they start going down the hill, manic grin back on his face as they pick up speed.

They shoot down like a rocket, wind blasting both of their faces and snow getting into Bucky’s gloves. But halfway down the slope, Steve starts laughing, the out of control kind, and Bucky joins in, because they’ve both got butterflies in their stomachs and they actually _might die_ and _this is **crazy**_ -

But Steve is laughing, and, well, if he’s going to die, he’ll gladly go with their laughter in his ears and smiles on _both_ of their faces.

They end up crashed into a snow dune. Bucky wriggles before poking his head up and breaching the surface with a grin, turning his head and darting his eyes around to quickly scan the area until he finds Steve pulling himself out of the snow five feet off, flopping onto his back with a _puff_ of snow shooting up at his dropped weight. Bucky pulls himself out and crawls over on his hands and knees, flopping down next to him. The shield’s about ten feet off from where they’re at.

He starts moving his arms and legs back and forth, grinning over at Steve when he can feel a prickle on the side of his face.

Steve stares at him for a long moment before a slow smile starts to work its way onto his face, slowly stretching into a grin of his own as he moves his own arms and legs.

They both get up afterwards and stare down at their matching snow angels, boot tracks on the edges and a smudge here and there. Bucky’s comforted by the imperfections, like their snow angels used to look when they were kids and Steve insisted on going out, health risks be damned, to make them. He’s sure Steve’s comforted by it, too.

He feels fingers gently lace through his and grips Steve’s hand back, Steve tightening his grip as Bucky looks over at him, watching his profile as Steve continues to stare down at the matching snow angels for a moment before looking back.

“Thanks, Buck,” Steve says quietly, a smile still pulling up his lips.

Bucky smiles back, bringing their hands up to press his lips to the back of Steve’s over his glove. “You’re welcome, Stevie.”

They walk over to pick up the shield together, hand in hand, not letting go.

\--

Bucky stares down at the chopped up vegetables on the counter, face blank. His eyes dart over to one of the stove’s burners before looking around the small kitchen, frowning the longer he looks. He does a full turn, finally coming to a stop when his eyes land on the shield leaned next to the old couch, glancing over at where Steve’s doing the last of his push ups, bare back covered in a light sheen of sweat that reflects the overhead lights.

“Hey, Steve,” he calls over as Steve pushes himself to standing. Steve turns to look at him, wiping the back of his hand over his forehead, messing up the slightly damp strands of his bangs dangling there. “Bring your shield over here,” Bucky says, and Steve complies, picking it up and walking over into the kitchen.

Bucky takes it when Steve hands it to him, setting it over a burner on the stove and turning it on. Steve lets out a strangled sound, swiping it back off of the stove.

“Bucky, no,” Steve says firmly, gripping the shield tighter to his chest when Bucky turns towards him, raising a brow before grinning like a wolf.

“Bucky, _yes_ ,” he says, inching towards Steve.

Steve shakes his head quickly, dodging right when Bucky lunges for him and running for the bedroom. Bucky follows, wedging his left arm between the door and the doorframe before Steve can fully slam it shut.

“Bucky!” Steve lets out, pushing on the door with his full weight, “It’s not meant for cooking!”

“We don’t have a stir fry pan!” Bucky shouts back, plates in his arms shifting and sliding and adjusting, taking only seconds to reinforce. He pries the door open and Steve stumbles back a bit with it, shield still clutched to his chest. “It won’t damage it, I promise,” Bucky reassures, slowing to a stop a few feet away when Steve’s back hits the wall, jolting a little at the unexpected impact.

Steve frowns, glancing from Bucky to the shield, then back again. “But…” he trails off.

Bucky quirks his lips. “I promise Steve. It can withstand more heat than I’m going to use.”

“But what about the straps,” Steve says a little weakly, “What if they warp?”

Bucky waves a hand, dismissing it, the other coming to rest on his hip. “It’ll be fine. They won’t warp.”

Steve frowns a little more helplessly down at his shield, eyes darting up when Bucky holds out his hand. He stares at it for a long moment before dragging his eyes back up to Bucky’s, slowly drawing the shield away from his chest and the edge into Bucky’s offered hand. He sighs when Bucky slowly slides it out of Steve’s grasp, letting Bucky step in close to press a light kiss to his lips.

“Thank you, Stevie,” Bucky says with a small smile, leaning back a little, “You can even watch while I cook just to make sure,” he adds, turning to head out of the room.

“ _And clean it off_ ,” he hears Steve grumble behind him. Bucky nods along, heading back for the stove.

“And clean it off,” he agrees easily, Shadow watching them both from the window, ears twitching.

The stir fry comes out near perfect, and Steve glances up at him every so often while Bucky cleans the shield, Shadow resting on Steve’s shoulder and gently curling its tail over the front of his chest.

\--

The rain comes down harder and they start running down the street, trying to get back before they get _completely_ soaked, Shadow cradled in his left arm, shivering and miserable. The day started out fine, but the storm was sudden and quick. The only good thing is it’s washing away the blood on them and the shield.

The rain increases into a torrent halfway back, and Bucky lets out a curse in Russian. “It’s really coming down!” he half shouts over the rain at Steve, bangs plastered to his face and making it a little difficult to see.

He hears the familiar _clickslide_ of metal being unhooked and then Steve’s wrapping his right arm around Bucky’s waist and slowing them to a walk, pulling him in close while something shelters the two of them over his head, the sound of water _pinging_ off of metal. Bucky glances up.

He shoots Steve a questioning look, but Steve just quirks his lips back, something playful in his eyes that Bucky’s only recently started seeing more and more often again.

Shadow gives out a miserable sounding _mewl_ and they curl into each other, walking the rest of the way back to their current apartment, sticking to backroads. Bucky leans over, pressing his lips to Steve’s cheek in a brief kiss.

Steve grins a bit back, leaning his own head closer to brush their noses together before dropping his head suddenly to press a kiss to the top of the cat’s head, pressing his lips to Bucky’s cheek, too, when Bucky pushes his lower lip out in a pout, smiling after when he gets what he wants.

Steve’s shoulders lose most of their tension as they walk down the empty streets, roads devoid of life and everyone inside to avoid the rain. Bucky’s do too.

It’s nice to know that Steve’s shield can be used for more than just war, and that Bucky’s arm can be used as more than just a weapon.

It’s nice to know they can still be human, too.


End file.
